Flesh
by JojoLightningfingers
Summary: Knowing Soren's nature, Shinon gives him hell for it before the tension forces him into a radically different action. SorenShinon, no lemon. For Okami-Paucis.


**Normally, I don't have any thoughts one way or the other about SorenxShinon, but I offered to write one for Okami-Paucis (DeviantART) because she loves it. And in return, she said she would doodle a scene from it and if you like and watch this story, I'll send you the link to it when she's posted it.**

**Okay, enough chatter. Read on!**

* * *

Being the staff officer for an army as large as Ike's was no easy task. The fact that his body was slightly weaker than the average person's didn't help in the slightest. Fortunately, most everyone, the exceptions being Ike, Mist, Oscar, Titania and Rhys, stayed out of his way.

"Good morning, beast."

Oh, and Shinon.

Soren didn't answer the sniper and instead bent over his record book. After scanning a page, he got up to go and recount the number of Thoron tomes and Physic staves they had on hand. These were conviniently located far away from Shinon.

The mage knew that the redhead would simply wait until he came back. Then would come a torrent of verbal abuse. Ever since Stefan had let slip his nature over dinner (it was an accident, but still), Soren had had a vendetta against the swordsmaster for exactly that reason. It was incredibly taxing to deal with.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, Soren walked back to his book. Sure enough, Shinon was there, leaned on a bookshelf. The mage sat in his chair and picked up his quill, waiting for it to begin.

"How've you been doing? Eaten anyone lately?" the sniper asked casually.

"Mind getting off that bookcase? I need to check something," Soren stated, ignoring Shinon.

The sniper ignored him back and kept talking. "So how does human flesh taste?"

"I'll find out in a minute, if you don't _move_," Soren hissed through gritted teeth.

It took the redhead a moment to realize he was being threatened. "Better watch what you say to me, whelp, or you'll end up full of holes." He moved off the bookcase anyway.

Soren didn't answer as he jotted down the number of Wind tomes in his notes. All eighteen of them glowed with a faint pulse of magic.

And so it went. Soren got up to catalogue swords, Shinon followed him. Soren went to group a stack of bows, Shinon followed him. Soren set up a rack of lances that had fallen over, Shinon followed him. All the while, he spouted insults directed at the mage.

Finally, Soren snapped. He walked calmly over to a bookcase filled to the brim with high level magic. He pulled out their single Rexflame tome and stroked it lovingly. "I wonder what you'd look like burnt into a pile of ash...care to find out?"

"Easy, half-breed. No need to go round the bend."

Soren blinked at his tone and replaced the book. The foul rank of stale beer reached him. He curled his lip and wrinkled his nose. "You've been drinking," he said tartly.

"And if I have?" the sniper challenged, his words slurring slighly. "What are you going to do about it, boy?"

"Nothing. Now get out."

* * *

It had been like this for two weeks. Fourteen days of unrelenting torture, and Soren had simply turned the other cheek and continued with his work. It irritated Shinon to no end that he couldn't make Soren snap. He never even considered that he'd been treated like this the day he was born. He probably didn't even know.

Regardless, the tension was threatening to break him. He became erratic in his movements. He could barely hit the targets anymore.

He felt ready to give in. It was common knowledge that Soren and Shinon hated each other Now they probably were going to have to resort to their private way of easing stress, as they couldn't duke it out with spells, knives, and arrows without Ike and everyone else knowing something was up.

* * *

The next day, Shinon was in the supply tent, as per usual. Soren prepared himself, going to the table with a tight air.

Shinon started the conversation. "Good morning, beast."

"Good morning Shinon," he said with a falsly cheerful tone. "Do you need anything?" His tone darkened. "Because if not, get your ass out."

"Actually, I was thinking about yesterday. I'm way too tense to fight like this."

Soren thought about making a smart remark about how he'd insigated the whole mess, but kept silent.

"So I was wondering if I could show you something in the back of that dark, secluded tent way on the outskirts of camp?"

It took the mage ten seconds and several blinks before he got what the sniper was driving at. "Fine. But only because I feel like the stress is going to snap me in half."

"That's the only reason I asked," Shinon spat.

* * *

Nightfall. Soren checked to make sure Tormod was asleep before sneaking out. The mage walked briskly but silently to the tent Shinon had mentioned earlier that day. It was nearly half a mile from camp. Far enough away so that neither of them would be heard, unless Ulki happened to be awake.

Shinon was already there, his metal shin-guards and leather armor gone. Soren stepped into the darkness of the tent, drawing the flap closed and tying it off with one of the sashes from his robes.

For a moment, the pair stood there, staring at each other. Then, with slow – nearly silent – movements, Shinon advanced on the mage. The sniper towered over Soren. His hands pinned the green-hair's shoulders to the material. It was a moment later when he noticed the knee between his legs, keeping him from escaping. Shinon's eyes drew level with the mage's, glaring into him with a deep-seated hate.

No use – with red eyes and the hate of the beorc who had shunned him, Soren could – and did – out-glare just about anyone. He returned the look with a slight curl of the lip added in and shifted himself slightly.

Suddenly, Shinon's lips crashed against his and his tongue was in Soren's mouth before he could even register the fact. The mage fought against the sniper's onslaught, his own tongue working furiously, trying to topple Shinon from his place at the top.

Without warning, the redhead's knee jerked upward, brushing against the inside of the mage's thigh. Soren's head wrenched away from Shinon's mouth and tipped upward slightly. He managed to stifle his groan; the sniper pulled Soren's head back a little more and snapped hungrily at his throat. The green-hair felt sure the redhead would tear it out if he could.

To retalieate, Soren yanked Shinon's ponytail loose none too gently. The sniper hissed and bit hard into the mage's collarbone. His hands clawed at the robes, nails scratching pale skin. Soren growled and left off teasing the redhead, tearing frenziedly at Shinon's garb. He just wanted this to be over so he could sleep.

The instant the sniper's collarbone was exposed, he broke out of his grip and bit hard, drawing blood. _So that's what human flesh tastes like,_ he thought absently as Shinon pulled him to the floor.

* * *

**SORRY, NO LEMON FOR YOU.**

**OH and I referenced one of Okami-Paucis's Fire Emblem memes somewhere - find it and I'll give you a cookie. :3**


End file.
